The Memories in the Brain
by Let me rule
Summary: It was over. Done. Finished. If Booth couldn't remember her anymore, what was the point of pretending that he'll get better?


**A/N: This is is a little oneshot I wrote one day after watching " The Critic in the Cabernet" again. It doesn't exactly follow the story line. This is my first published piece on Fanfiction, but I'm a longtime reader and writer. Muchas gracias to anyone who decides to press that lil' blue button.**

**Disclaimer: Look at that! I OWN BONES! 206 of them, in fact. Unfortuantely, none of them are labeled with " Owned by Fox and Created by Hart Hanson." **

**Darn it. **

Brennan rubbed her blood-shot eyes tiredly. The black words contrasted against the white screen seemed to be forever burned into her retinas. She scowled at the screen. She knew as well as anybody how much Andy Lister was based off of Booth, despite her protests. And how much Kathy Reichs was based off of her. And she had written a stupid story about them getting together, marrying, having children. She couldn't be with the real life with Andy Lister. One, because he was her _partner. _Well, and her best friend, but still. They were partners. Two, because the real life Andy Lister happened to be in a coma right now, wired to his bed with too many monitors and tubes. Without hesitation, she hit delete. The offending story disappeared from the screen, never to come back. Brennan leaned back in the couch, ready to keel from exhaustion. Trying to sleep on a hospital couch for four nights, arguing with Booth's nurses about everything, and just being worried had made her tired beyond belief. How could she not be worried when she faced the prospect of Booth never waking up? She shut her laptop down, ready for a nap, and glanced at Booth to make sure he was alright. He was very pale, oxygen tubes resting in his nose, and gauze wrapping his shaved head. She had shut her eyes, just for a moment, when she heard a noise. It sounded suspiciously like a groan. But, of course, it could just be the hissing of Booth's oxygen tank. It had happened before. Apprehensively, not wanting to set herself up for disaster, she cracked open her eyes a bit.

And found Booth's chocolate brown eyes staring back at her. They were confused and a little scared, like he had no idea where he was. Brennan smiled. Booth was awake! She quickly sat up and hopped up off the couch, giddiness coursing through her.

" Booth! How do you feel? You've been in a come for four days, it was an effect of the anesthetic. How are you?" Her words tumbled out in a quick jumble. She knew it was irrational and stupid, but she almost felt like this was her only chance to speak with Booth again, like he was going to fall back into a coma at any moment. Booth opened his mouth to speak, looking at Brennan with a mixture of fear and confusion. She disregarded it for the moment. Most likely it was just because of the medication. Booth's eyes might have been odd, but nothing prepared her for when Booth said the sentence.

" Who are you?"

Brennan stared at him. The balloon of happiness that had swelled up when Booth had waken seemed to deflate quickly. He didn't remember? He didn't remember. He didn't remember four years of solving crimes, teasing relentlessly, going out for dinner at Wong Foo's and Breakfast at the diner? He didn't remember _her_? She felt like crying, puking, and running all at the same time. Slowly, Brennan backed away from the bed, trying not to scream bloody murder. Her throat closed up, and she felt tears that were threatening to spill over.

" I- I Have to-" She stuttered incoherently, trying to find an acceptable excuse for leaving this room as fast as she could. " I have to go."

Angela was confused. And worried. Twenty minutes ago, she had been strolling up the hospital hallway as she was going to force Brennan to take a lunch break, when she saw her best friend running down the hall like there was no tomorrow. She hadn't seemed to notice Angela. Her face was red, and streaked with tears, and she had heard Brennan give a rasping sob. Brennan _never_ cried. Not when she was shot, not when she was kidnapped by the Grave Digger, not when she was stabbed. The only time Angela had ever seen her cry was when Booth had been forced to fake his death. Naturally, Angela had stomped into Booth's room, fuming, and looking for the doctor who had reduced her best friend to tears and kick his butt. But she didn't find him. Instead, she had found Booth, awake and confused, staring at the door from which Brennan had just run. Booth had been overjoyed to see Angela, but had asked a strange question: Who was that woman who had just run from the room? Angela had frozen then, her eyes flickering back and forth between Booth's sincere expression, and the door.

In a moment, she'd understood.

Angela found Brennan in her office, typing furiously on her laptop. Angela couldn't read it all, but she caught words like:_ Andy, Coma, Kathy._ Her face was swollen, her eyes bloodshot, but she was acting like nothing had happened. Or so it seemed. Angela cautiously approached her, knowing from experience how testy four nights of no sleep made you.

" Sweetie-" She began.

" Stop, Ange." Brennan slammed her laptop down and glared at Angela with red-tinted blue eyes. " I know where you're going." Oh. She _had _seen her. " But it's done. He doesn't recognize me. He won't. He doesn't even know my name." A single tear made it's way down her cheek, not unnoticed by Angela. Brennan swiped at it roughly with her sleeve. Angela sighed, and pulled her best friend into a tight hug. Brennan didn't hug back, just stood there, limp and defeated, finally.

" It's not over, Bren." She said quietly. She let go, and led her over to the couch. " I talked to his doctor. It's a side effect of the tumor. It's not permanent. " Brennan's eyes seemed to light up at this, and Angela knew immediately that she shouldn't have told her that way.

" It's a side effect?" She asked cautiously. " How long do they expect it to last?"

Angela hesitated, really not wanting to give that answer.

" Angela! Tell me!" Brennan said furiously.

" Well," She started slowly, trying to buy herself time. " Well, it could last anywhere from two days to a year."

That did it. Brennan enfolded herself into the couch, sobbing uncharacteristically. Angela sighed quietly. Poor Booth. Poor Brennan.

Brennan stood in the doorway, watching Booth. He was watching a Hockey game with little interest, staring vacantly at the screen. He looked so desolate,so alone, and so weak and helpless that Brennan felt her anger flare irrationally. Stupid tumor. Stupid surgery. Stupid coma. Stupid,stupid,stupid. She clenched her fists and walked into the room.

" Booth?" Booth looked up. No flicker of recognition flashed across his pale face, like she had written it to be in her new book. She sat down next to him, trying not to cry again. She knew she didn't know the answer, but she asked anyway.

" Who am I?"

Booth eyed her warily, and looked down at the blankets instead.

" Dr. Brennan." He said quietly. " Angela told me." So. Booth remembered Angela. But not her. She felt her throat tighten, and she rasped the next words out, stupid tears distorting her vision.

" No, Booth. What_ you_ call me."

Booth seemed even more confused.

" Er, Temperance?" He ventured shyly. That wasn't Booth. Booth was cocky, confident, headstrong, even when he knew he was wrong. Not shy and confused. Brennan turned from Booth. The last time he had called her Temperance, he had been trying to calm her down after he realized that her mother had been murdered. She tried one last time, already knowing it was hopeless.

" Booth, what do you call me?" Booth shook his head, wincing at the slight movement.

" I'm sorry. I don't know." Brennan buried her face in her arms, realizing that Booth really, truly, didn't know her. Her worst nightmare, apart from Booth dying, was coming true. The silence that followed was the longest, loudest silence Brennan had ever heard. She now understood the colloquialism. It was so awkward, so wrong, it seemed to vibrate in her ears. She was nearly glad when her cell phone rang.

" Brennan."

" Sweetie, it's me. Are you alright?" Oh. Angela.

" What's up, Angela?" She deliberately ignored the question.

" We have a case. FBI delivered bones five minutes ago." Brennan groaned.

" Which agent?" She asked.

" Perotta. Hate her. Come quick, alright? Zack's already found cause of death."

" Right. Be there in fifteen minutes." Brennan slid her phone in her pocket and stood up.

" I have to go." She told Booth stiffly. " I have a case. FBI just delivered a skeleton. I'll see you later, Booth." She left the room, partially happy for a distraction.

Booth was confused beyond belief. He had woken to find a tired, but beautiful woman sitting next to him. She had seemed so relieved when she had realized he was awake, but he couldn't for the life of him remember her at all. She had seemed so shocked when he had asked that question. Then she had run, tears streaming down her sharp face. Then Angela had walked in. _Her_ he remembered. Angela too, had seemed shocked when he asked who that woman was, but she had answered dazedly while she searched for her keys.

" She's Dr. Temperance Brennan, a Forensic Anthropologist. And your partner." Then she had rushed out, one hand dialing a number on her cell phone, leaving him for confused then before. Partners?

" Skeleton." He muttered. He knew he should remember this, but it was like someone had built a brick wall over his memories. " FBI delivered a skeleton. They delivered bones..to..to.." Something clicked. Booth's eyes widened as he remembered who she was. His partner. His best friend. His-

" BONES!" The brick wall came crumbling down, and memories came flooding in. Memories of bickering in the car, teasing Bones as she examined their latest case in the lab, begging her to try a little piece of pie at the diner...

" BONES! GET BACK HERE!"

Back in the hall, Brennan froze. She hadn't just heard that, had she? The yell came echoing down the hallway.

" BO-ONES! COME ON, PLEASE?" Booth. Brennan ran back into his room, trying not to get her hopes up. Booth was struggling to get out of bed, tubes and wires effectively tying him down. He stopped as soon as he saw her, though.

" Bones!" He said in relief.

" What did you call me?" Brennan carefully asked. Booth grinned that classic Booth smile.

" Hey, Bones." Brennan flew into the room, and pulled Booth into a tight hug. It was an irrational response, she knew, but who cared? Booth remembered!

" I was so scared, Booth." She whispered as the tears ran down her cheek. Booth, being unable to hug her properly, gave her a butterfly kiss on the forehead.

" I know, Bones. I know."


End file.
